


Sweet n' Salty

by decco6226



Category: Mother 3
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decco6226/pseuds/decco6226
Summary: A casual online hookup between sweet, innocent Lucas, and the handsome Duster takes a dangerous struggle for survival.





	1. Chapter 1

_Lensman319 – So we should finally hook up, baby?_

 

_Thongboooi14 – NOT a baby, i keep telling you_

 

_Lensman319 – I'll have to see for myself._

 

_Thongboooi14 – Think a baby reads zadie smith?_

 

_Lensman319 – Dunno. Babies pretend to read._

 

_Thongboooi14 – and you know this? you study babies?_

 

_Lensman319 – Only one I study is you._

 

_Thongboooi14 - :)~~ whatcha doing now?_

 

_Lensman319 – Besides fantasizing over you?_

 

_Thongboooi14 – you oughta film me with that videocam_

_Thongboooi14 – then you wouldn't have to fantasize_

 

_Lensman319 – This is very doable_

 

_Thongbooi14 – like me – KIDDING_

 

_Lensman319 – Tease._

 

_Thongboooi14 – okay, let's do it_

_Thongboooi14 – hook up i mean_

 

_Lensman319 – for real? Where?_

 

_Thongboooi14 – my big brother could drop me off at the cafe_

_Thongboooi14 – give me an hour to shower_

 

_Lensman319 – i'll picture it_

 

_Thongboooi14 – 11 am?_

 

_Lensman319 – done. go shower. now._

 

_Thongboooi14 – get a little bossy when you're hot, do ya?_

 

_Lensman314 – pleeeease_

 

_Thongboooi14 – that's better. see ya soon! Xxxxoooo_

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

A black fork cut easily into a piece of soft, moist chocolate cake, the handler scooped it up and put it to his mouth. Lucas moaned as the dessert melted in his mouth, leaving a sweet taste that exploded in his mouth, hitting all of his taste buds.

 

He looked to the cafe server. “That is _so_ good...”

 

Lucas was a small fourteen-year-old boy. He was a light, cheery boy, who always had a smile on his face, and blushes that ran through his cheeks. He had kind blue eyes, and skin so white it almost looked as fairy tales would say, 'paper'. But being the younger twin of his household, he was used to the more nicer comments.

 

Lucas dressed quite normally for a boy. His blonde hair was gelled into a cowlick that flipped upwards like something out of a fifty's movie, and he wore for today's date, his favorite shirt – a simple red and yellow striped one, that of which was under by a red hoodie. His entire thin body size was anything that a fourteen-year-old is, but something in those blue eyes that was very charming and mature

 

“I-I want more.” He said, smiling.

 

“Don't get greedy.” An older male voice said from behind the blonde, causing Lucas to turn slowly, and store upon the male behind him. Said man was in his early thirties, wearing a nice light blue dress shirt, and red pants. He had nice, slicked-back brown hair, kind eyes, and a pleasant smile.

 

Lucas smiled. “Duster...?” He asked.

 

“Lucas.” Duster greeted polity.

 

Lucas smiled shyly and covered his face, turning halfway to hide his blush. “Sorry, I was feeling so sophisticated when we met.”

 

“Little hard to do that with a mouthful of... whatever that is.” Duster replied happily

 

“O-oh it's great, it's great! D-do you want some?”

 

“Sure.” Duster said, smiling, and proceeded to wipe some excess chocolate off of Lucas' lips with his thumb, and place it on his own lips. This caused Lucas to blush even redder and giggle.

 

“Mmm, yum.”

 

“That's, uh... kinda what I was thinking...” Lucas replied with a pink face. That's what caused Duster to look to the teen, and cock his head.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“You just don't seem to be the kinda guy who has to meet boys over the internet.”

 

Duster stood silent for a second. “Well, I think it's better to meet people online first sometimes. Get to know what they're like inside. You work as a photographer, you find out real quick, people's faces lie.”

 

Once again, Lucas' paper skin blushed into a shade of pink. “D-does my face lie...?” His smile stood, but eventually fell a little while he waited for the answer.

 

“I look at those eyes, and I see... a boy who reads Zadie Smith, who listens to _The Runaway Five_ and _Coldplay_. Who... _loves Monty Python_ episodes, and who desperately... madly... deeply... wants... needs... _longs_ for... more chocolate.” Duster smiled.

 

Lucas let out a small breath of laughter. “Excellent, excellent judge of character.”

 

The two males laughed and walked to the cafe counter, Duster looking over Lucas like the boy is his son – well, he's old enough _to_ be. Lucas looked over to the clerk. “U-umm... could I get two of those truffles?” He asked, pointing behind the counter. “And, uh... two ganaches?”

 

“Now, what's a ganache?” Duster asked in confusion, leaning an arm on the countertop.

 

“You don't know what a ganache is? You're lucky you're with... me to introduce you to these things...” He said softly, blushing again. Typical Lucas.

 

“Two chocolate covered hearts,” Duster added.

 

“And a decaf latte for me,” Lucas adds. He looks to Duster, his eyes asking him if he wants anything else.

 

“Nah, I'm good.”

 

“You do appear so,” Lucas says softly, bashfully as Duster charms him with cool.

 

~oO0Oo~

 

The back of the coffee shop is filled with old, densely padded secondhand furniture. Against one wall, a bulletin board with flyers advertising massage therapists, yoga classes, and a sad photo-flyer in search of missing teen Travis Mauer – like Lucas, a fresh-scrubbed and handsome boy.

 

Lucas and Duster settle into two hard leather red seats with their food. “So, what's in the bag?” Duster asked for a conversation starter. Lucas' large brown bookbag sat on the floor next to the boy, stuffed to the brim. Lucas held the coffee in his hands.

 

“Oh, you know, just like, books n' stuff. I figured, if you stood me up I should have something to read, and uh... I couldn't decide. I'm reading this new book about Jean Seberg-” he took a gulp from the small coffee cup, looking at Duster, who was shaking his head, indicating he had no idea what he was talking about. “She's this actress who slept with all the wrong people... and ended up killing herself.”

 

Duster laughed once. “Don't _you_ do that.”

 

“No. I intend to sleep with all the right people. A-and plus, I'm reading _Romeo and Juliet_ , i-it's a ninth grade book, but I figured I could... have it done before the school year starts, so...”

 

Duster cocked his head again, and smiled, looking at a large medical textbook poking out of the boy's bookbag. “Doesn't look like Elizabethan tragedy.”

 

“Oh, uh,” Lucas covered the book with the top of his bag cover. “No, that's cause... W-well my dad... he's letting me audit one of his med school courses, right? I don't really understand half of it, but I totally love it.”

 

Duster smiled pleasantly and sat back in his seat. “What, so you, go to UTNI” or _University of Tazmilly Nowhere Islands_ “and you sit in a lecture hall with all of these grad students, and, what do they hit on you?”

 

Lucas fiddled with his fork and blushed. “Why, are you jealous?”

 

“No, just admiring. I didn't know you were interested in that kinda thing.”

 

“What? You thought since we'd been chatting for three weeks that you knew everything about me?” He said mischievously. “Plus, they wouldn't hit on a fourteen-year-old-boy. They're old enough to be my dad, so...”

 

Duster nodded, thinking it over, and when Lucas went over the words in his head, his eyes went wide.

 

He held the coffee cup in his hands, and let out a small sigh. “Th-they're like... They're _bad_ older. They're... You're not...” He sighed, appalled at himself. “I'm so articulate... Sorry, can I just, like, start over?” He stuttered, completely embarrassed.

 

But Duster smiled pleasantly at him. “No. I get it. I get it.” He laughed, brushing it off. “I just thought...” He sat up. “You know, well, you look older than you are. You certainly _act_ older than you are.”

 

Lucas blushed and smiled a little. “R-really...?”

 

“Yeah. I was expecting someone not as impressive.” Duster said honestly.

 

“M-me too...” Lucas took a small sip of his latte from his cup.

 

~oO0Oo~

 

Lucas store up at one of the cafe shirts on the cork board wall. It was green, and had a picture of the front of his favorite cafe on the front, with the store's name printed under the picture. “Cool shirt...”

 

Duster looked over at him. “You want it?”

 

He rubbed his neck and smiled awkwardly, his wrist showing multiple elastic bands around his left wrist. “No, I didn't really bring enough bucks, so...”

 

“And yet, not what I was asking.”

 

“Well yeah sure, I _want_ it, but-”

 

Duster turned to the cashier. “Can I get a green shirt in a small, please.”

 

“No. No, no, I can't let you do that.”

 

“What? Because-”

 

“Because...”

 

“What? Because you'd be so indebted to me that you'd have to...” Duster didn't need to finish his sentence.

 

That awkward smile appeared on Lucas' face once again. “Okay, I guess I can let you do that.”

 

“You do have to model it for me, though.”

 

“Conditions. I can't live with all these conditions.” Lucas whined in a mock-agony tone. But he looked up to Duster as the new shirt was placed on the counter. “Thanks.” Lucas then spread the t-shirt out in his hands. “This is so unfair...”

 

“What?”

 

Lucas pointed to the t-shirt. “I mean, this is when things _happen_. In the middle of the night, by which time I am completely out of the scene.”

 

Duster smiled, looking at Lucas. “Life as a teenager.”

 

Lucas sighed back. “ I just hate having to depend on Claus to drive me everywhere.” The blonde ranted, walking to the cream and sugar stand to the left.

 

“You'll be driving before you know it.” Duster said sportively.

 

However, Lucas kept up his rant. “In the meantime, I missed Elizabeth Wurtzel speaking at UTNI _and The_ _Runaway Five_ concert.”

 

Duster looked back down to him as he poured cream into his coffee. “I was at _The Runaway Five_ concert actually.”

 

Lucas sighed, disappointing slightly. “Shut up. You were? Was it great? Of course, it was great, what am I saying?” He sighed a little until Duster said something that brought his spirits up.

 

“Well, you could judge for yourself. I got a bootleg MP3.”

 

“ _You_ have the _concert?”_

 

Duster laughed. “Just one song. A little louder please, so the authorities know.”

 

Lucas' smile came back. His date had a bootleg MP3 of his favorite band. It was the two best things in the world. “I totally have to hear it!”

 

“Well, I'll send it to you.”

 

Quietly, the blonde looked down, quietly saying, “After you get home after you get around to it.” He knew this was the sentence adults used all the time, and honestly, he was sick of hearing it.

 

Duster looked at him and put on a wise smile. “Good things are worth the wait.”

 

They walked to the bathroom doors. “Oh, oh and what have _you_ waited for recently?” Lucas mocked.

 

“Well, I'm gonna have to wait four years for you.”

 

Lucas backed up towards the bathroom doors. “You are just trying to distract me from that MP3.”

 

“Look, I have to send it. It's not like I can just take you over to my house. That would be a little insane.”

 

Lucas moved away to give room to the man who just walked out of the bathroom. “True...” In one hand he held the shirt, and he pointed to Duster. “Okay, now don't peek.”

 

That caused Duster to laugh as Lucas walked into the bathroom door, and he took a sip of coffee. “I shoot models for a living. I've seen it all before.”

 

Lucas' voice was muffled from behind the door, but he could still hear his little teasing voice. “And you're _so sure_ about that?”

 

“Uh, I'm thinkin' yeah.”

 

“Well, maybe you _should_ peek. Make that clerk wonder what's goin' on over here.”

 

Duster smiled, resting his head on the orange wall as he leaned against it. This was going well. “In your dreams little boy.”

 

“ _Little boy_?” He asked, sounding shocked. “Whatever happened to how... _mature..._ I was?”

 

There was silence, until Lucas quickly opened the door, showing him in his jeans, and no top, just his thin, bare chest. “Is this mature enough for you?” He quickly shut the door.

 

“Okay...” Duster sighed. “You keep teasin' me like that, you're gonna drive me crazy.”

 

“Is that so? Okay, all right.” The blonde opened up the door and displayed the t-shirt that was on him. “How's this?” He said, looking down to the ground awkwardly.

 

“Nice.”

 

He shut the door again.

 

Back in his regular clothes, Lucas and Duster return to their seats. “Okay, now there's _three_ points I have to make.” He sat down. “One: You wouldn't take advantage because you've been seen with me here today.” He pulled his bookbag to his lap and stuffed the shirt in. “And two: It's _The Runaway Five_.”

 

Duster snickered. “And three?”

 

“Well, and three... you said it would be insane for me to come over, and... well... Four:... Four out of five doctors _agree_ that I _am actually_ insane.” He said with a smile, baring that proudly. “Thus, I _have_ to come over... in order to be true to myself. Right?” He giggled and stood up.

 

Duster smiled. It was going _very_ well, and he considers it.

 

The two rode up in the elevator that led up to the parking garage, awkwardly looking back and forth to each other, Lucas obviously blushing, scratching his cheek as well. As they stopped on the top floor of the parking structure, downtown rising in the distance, and the hills looming from another, Duster walks Lucas over to a black Cooper Mini.

 

“Um, and the fifth reason:” Lucas starts, a hint of excitement in his voice, “This amazing car.” He says as if it's a matter of fact.

 

“Well, in the face of logic like that, I bow down and worship.” Duster says.

 

“Bow down?” Lucas asks, smiling, twisting awkwardly from side to side. He liked the sound of that... “That's a good idea. What're you waiting for?” He asked playfully. “Worship me.”

 

He approached Lucas. “Yes, oh, royal Thong-boy.” He knelt down. “I am not worthy to kiss your feet.”

 

Lucas turned a light shade of pink and smiled. “Well... maybe you are.” He said, rolling his eyes. And Duster did so, causing him to turn even pinker, and stammer, looking away. “M-Maybe we should, like, get going...”

 

“Yes... oh, magnificent Thong-boy.” And as he got up and unlocked the Copper's side door, he looked to Lucas. “You wanna call your brother? Tell him where you'll be?”

 

“M-maybe later...” Lucas says, dismissing it. “I just wanna get in this car.” And as he sat down on the nice seat, he put his bag on his lap, and Duster firmly closed the door for him after looking around.

 

They drove through the thin streets, and up a narrow hill, Lucas blushing and looking around. This is how young boys and girls disappeared... But through the streets and hills, they traveled, and they looked back and forth between each other. This was love...

 

Lucas looked away.

 

Was it love?

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Duster's home was the style of a vintage, modernist home from the 50's. Each wall in his house is painted one color, with the color style matching the wall. For instance, the living room and kitchen had one red wall, and the others had grey, thus, most of the furniture was sleek and modern grey and blacks, with a few wood-based furnitures of oak. Duster walked past the small rock garden in his living room with two glasses of water, his walls containing art prints of handsome, barely clothed men shot with the eye of David Sailey or Herb Ritte – not tawdry stuff. But realistically, most of the boys looked on the verge of being undraped.

 

In the media room side room of the house, it's outside walls being the same red, and inside is a light grey, Lucas clapped with a large pair of earphones on, as the bootlegged MP3 stopped. “So hot...”

 

Duster leaned against the side of the wall and held out one of the glasses, and Lucas looked up to it, skeptical. “What's wrong?” He asks.

 

“W-well...” Lucas stammers awkwardly. “They teach us young things not to drink anything we haven't mixed ourselves, so...”

 

“Smart.” Duster smiles, and Lucas shrugged. “Come back to the kitchen, I'll pour it again.”

 

“No, come on,” Lucas said, standing up and taking the glass into his hand, he bounced out of the room. “I can whip up something more entertaining than that!” He walked around the kitchen's island, and went into his fridge, looking at the type of food he had after setting his glass on the counter. “Hmm. Healthy dude, huh?”

 

“I try.” He said, leaning on the island. “Figure I'll live as long as I can.”

 

Lucas looked back to him, grabbing two fresh glasses from the cabinet above. “Living longer's overrated.”

 

“What? You don't wanna reach a ripe old age?”

 

Lucas shut the cabinet. “For what? When I'm eighty, what do I do for fun?” He poured some orange juice he retrieved from the fridge into the glasses.

 

“When you're eighty, I'll be ninety-eight.” Duster replied with a smile.

 

“Right... and useless to me.” The boy in the red hoodie smiled.

 

“Well, what use do you have in mind for me?” He asked, causing Lucas to look back to him, smiling mischievously. But when the boy stood silent, the man left to the media room, leaving Lucas twisting the juice cap back on.

 

Opening up the freezer, the blonde teen pulled out a bottle of vodka, smiling triumphantly. “Ah, I knew there'd be something fun around here. I mean, other than was-.” He stopped, listening as Duster turned on some funky music in the background. This made Lucas smile, and start pouring the alcohol into glasses. “Hey, I bet these dudes got some dirt on you.”

 

“Those are models.” Duster explained, walking into the kitchen.

 

“So, why are they on your walls instead of magazine covers? Here, looking at you, while...” He twisted the alcohol cap back on and looking shyly at Duster, a blush across his cheeks. “You know, you do the most intimate things.”

 

Duster took it in stride as Lucas prepared the screwdrivers. It was a little hard to tell whether he was being flirtatious or just silly. “My house is my studio. When clients come here, they're walking into my giant portfolio.”

 

“So what, these were all shot here?”

 

~oO0Oo~

 

The music continued as Duster pulled open the sheet doors, An Aeron chair sits against a light table for inspecting slides. On one wall, an array of cameras and lenses, and on the sides, racks of lights and props. Against the back wall, which Lucas gazed into when the room opened were sets of photo color tarps, which were currently uncoiled. Holding the screwdriver, Lucas inspected it all and quickly stepped in, very impressed.

 

“Oh my God! Alright, you are like, a big deal, aren't you?”

 

“I get work.”

 

He looked to the left. “Oh, is that one of those cameras that gives you like, the square image?”

 

Duster laughed. “How'd you know that?”

 

Lucas laughed a little. “I'm a goon... I just like, _read_ constantly, I mean you saw all those books in my bag-”

 

“You're not reading now.”

 

He giggled a little more. “I-I'm not, am I? Feels good...” He took a gulp and smiled at Duster and his nearly full glass. “Don't fall behind.”

 

“We should toast.” Duster said happily.

 

Lucas nodded, agreeing, and paused for a second, still staring into Duster's eyes. “Carpe... omnius...”

 

“What's that?”

 

“I-it's my own little toast. You know carpe diem.”

 

“Seize the day.” Duster translated. The two stood close to each other, one looking up to the other, the other looking down.

 

“So, I figured, carpe omnius.”

 

“Take it all...” He translated too, and Lucas repeated it to him with a smirk, and they clinked glasses. But Lucas looked away shyly again.

 

“So... what is it like... to look through your lens at some... beautiful man... who's working so hard to look good for you?” He shook his head playfully and flirtatiously moved his words.

 

Duster smiled and gave him a professional response. “Well, you know these models, they all have these handlers: people to make sure their hair is just right, makeup is okay, and they don't get lost on the way to their next gig.”

 

Lucas held his arms out. “So, you _never_ get to be alone with them?”

 

“Rarely.”

 

The blonde rolled his eyes and sighed playfully. “Poor Duster.”

 

“I am compensated for my troubles, don't worry about me.”

 

“But I _like_ worrying about you...” Lucas whined, shaking his head. “It... it makes me wonder...” His voice trailed off as he store into space.

 

“What?”

 

Lucas store for a second, but then shook his head. “No, no. Forget it, forget it.”

 

“No, come on!” Duster cheered enthusiastically. “Come on, what's in that insane mind of yours?”

 

This made Lucas smile up at him. Someone... _someone_ who listened to him... who understood him... “Okay, we'll have another screwdriver, and then maybe, _maybe_ I'll tell you.” Quickly, he downed the rest of his drink before racing off.

 

Lucas poured more orange juice.

 

“I'm waiting.” Duster teased.

 

“Hold on!” Lucas stopped when he looked at him, disappointed. “You know, you are _not_ keeping up!”

 

Smiling, and coming around to Lucas' side on the island, leaning against the sink's counter, he downed the rest of the alcohol. He let out an exhale and set the glass down on the counter. But Lucas froze in his spot. “What?”

 

He smiled. “Okay, here's where you're supposed to make it easier for me and read my mind.”

 

Duster sighed happily. A teen was in his home, and it had to come up sooner or later. “You're wondering how many of these models I've done it with.”

 

Lucas was silent and looked away. “N-no.” _But now that he mentioned it..._ “How many?”

 

“None of them.”

 

“Oh, get out.” Lucas wasn't accepting that answer, and he poured the vodka into the drinks.

 

“No.” He said, defending his answer. “They're underage mostly. I'd be arrested...”

 

Once again, Lucas tried to contradict him. “So you're not arrested for photographing them like this?”

 

“I'm very aware of the legal boundaries.” The man explained gently. “I have to be.”

 

“Right, right,” he said, brushing it off. “Because secretly...” He smiled, pointing the glass bottle at him, “ _Secretly_ , you _would_ like to do them.”

 

Duster smiled. “Nah, there's just... _one_ that I slept with... when we were _both_ younger.”

 

This made Lucas sigh a bit in anticipation and looked around at the photos around the walls. He pointed to one on the right wall. “That one?”

 

Duster shook his head and laughed. “Not out here.” And he took a drink. While his mouth was full of liquid, not giving a chance to respond, Lucas said, “In the bedroom,” and raced off.

 

“No-”

 

The bedroom was just as sleek and simple as the rest, painted one shade of pink. Duster follows Lucas in, and he's staring at vintage 90's shots placed horizontally along the wall perfectly. They're all of a remarkable striking teenage boy, fully clothed – on the beach, in the woods, and looking particularly vulnerable in just a long, man's shirt on a bed with white stark sheets.

 

“What's his name?” Lucas asked as he took the photo off the wall.

 

“H-hey-”

 

He turned it over, looking at the writing written with a pen. “Fuel.” He read aloud. He savored the name like it's some sort of mysterious secret. The date _3/19_ was written on the back.

 

“Yeah, Fuel.” He confirmed, placing it back on the wall. For the first time, Duster looked unsettled, sheepish.

 

“So what? What? Was he like, the first big boyfriend or something?” Lucas asked, smiling.

 

“That's right...” Duster replied softly, sensitively, placing the shot back on the wall. He changed the topic. “Learned all my craft practicing on him.”

 

“And that date. Was that the first time you guys...?” He played along the words, but stopped, realizing he had crossed a line. He looked down and shook his head. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” He stopped, and looked up, waiting for something. “So what? Where is he now?”

 

“He actually signed a deal with _Ford_ right after this shoot. He really took off. He umm...”

 

It hit Lucas like a truck. “Oh my God... Okay, he is like, on magazine covers, I _know_ him! Well, like, not personally, obviously... You are more and more impressive every second!”

 

“The models are impressive.” He contradicted, “I just know how to bring them out.”

 

“You still love him...” He teased.

 

Duster looked to Lucas. “No.” He took a drink.

 

“Ah, yeah..”

 

“No.”

 

“Yeah!”

 

You could tell Duster was getting more flustered, anxious, his stomach sinking. “No.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No.”

 

“Really-really-really?”

 

“ _No_.” The harsh voice made Lucas jump back a bit, telling him it was time to stop. “I still love how simple things were back then but... You know I...” His voice hitched, and he sweated. “I don't want to forget that, but... we've moved on.” He concluded, and they walked away from the photos.

 

They sat on the bed, Lucas looked closely at Duster as he tried to play casual about his feelings. Duster took another drink.

 

“You're lonely,” Lucas concluded.

 

Duster let out an amused noise. “No.”

 

“I can hear it in your voice.”

 

“I'm a big boy.” He assured him, and Lucas smiled, giggling happily.

 

“I guess... everyone kind of has a Fuel, right?”

 

“I guess...”

 

Silence.

 

“Hey! Hey!” Lucas bounced excitedly, placing his drink down. “What if you got out one of your cameras...” He pulled off his red hoodie, revealing his yellow and red striped shirt. “And we can see what you can bring out it me?” He smiled happily, and giggled, blushing everywhere.

 

“Is this what you wanted to ask me?”

 

“Well, I-”

 

“It's not as easy as you think.” Duster said as his demeanor turned pro.

 

“Okay-”

 

“You know, models don't just pout their lips, they have to be willing to open up. They have to be willing to show us a little of their soul, their secrets... _And_ , most people only open up from weakness, nobody wants to see pictures... of _weak people_ ,” he ranted, “We look at great models because they open up...” He paused. “From a position of...” He paused, frowning as if from loss of thought.

 

Lucas looks on, concerned. Did he have too much to drink?

 

But he continued as if nothing ever happened. “Of strength. They have the strength... to believe they can do anything, no matter how...”

 

“A-are you okay...?” Lucas asked softly.

 

“Uhh... let's try something!”

 

They both bolted off the bed.

 

They split paths when they got to the hall, Lucas running to his bookbag. He pulled out a CD mixtape from the bag. “Uh-uh!” He called, running to the stereo in the kitchen. “Do me out here!”

 

“I shoot everyone in my studio!”

 

A funky beat and music came on. “Oh, come on, but I'm not anyone, am I?”

 

Duster sighed and walked out to the scene. “Clearly not...”

 

He blinked as Lucas started to take off his top, moving his hips to the music, pouting for the camera. “Come on, Duster, shoot me...” He whined seductively. “Come on...” He pulled off his shirt, now dancing in his shorts and undershirt.

 

Duster blinked and shook his head, the sound getting a little fuzzy and his vision kinda blurry.

 

“Shoot me...” Lucas begged, licking his fingers.

 

He readied the camera as Lucas wiggled his hips, shirt in hand. “Don't do that.”

 

“What?”

 

“That phony... music video crap.”

 

Lucas stroked his belly. “Come on.”

 

“Just be yourself. Be open. Weren't you just listening to me?”

 

Lucas leaned in, his voice stuttering in Duster's brain.

 

“C-c-c-c-o-o-o-m-m-e-e D-u-u-u-u-u-s-s-s-t-e-e-r-r-r-r-r... Sh-o-o-o-o-o-t me...”

 

“Look at me, be honest.” He shook his head again as Lucas acted like a stripper on the couch.

 

Too much to drink... Too much to drink...

 

“Would you just listen to me? Sit down.”

 

Lucas tossed his shirt away. “Duster, I don't-”

 

“ _Sit down!_ ” He yelled, commanding like.

 

Lucas hastily obeyed. Duster was on the floor now, looking around, blurry, sweating. “A-are you okay...?”

 

“I-I don't feel so good...”

 

Lucas looked on with worry as Duster tried to sit up, but fell backward, collapsing to the floor, leaving Lucas with his mouth hanging open.

 

~oO0Oo~

 

Duster awoke on the office armchair, his coat over his head to give his face, and sensitive eyes some rest from the sun. He breathes heavily as he wakes up, looking around.

 

Lucas ran to him, taking the coat off. “Did... did you call me?” He placed the coat down. “Sorry, I was just looking through your medicine cabinet.” No answer. “Okay, boring! No Valley of the Dolls stuff at all! I can't help but wondering why all the lubricants, though...”

 

Mutters escaped Duster's lungs.

 

“Oh, hey, just... you know, tell me when you're ready,” Lucas says. “Take your time.”

 

Duster looked around. They were in the kitchen, but his arms and feet were tied to the chair with thick blue rope. “What did you...?”

 

“You remember what I said about... not drinking anything you haven't mixed yourself?” Lucas' cheery, happy face twisted downwards into a psychotic, evil glare as Duster sat at his mercy. “That's good advice for _everyone_.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“You know what? I'm sorry you were drugged for so long.” Lucas said. “I've never really done that before, and, oh, I swiped this from my dad.” He held up a small vial, showing it in mock-concern. “It didn't really come with directions,” he laughed, “and it's not like I could just go _ask_ him how much to use!” He backed up and smiled. “So, I probably used too much, or those screwdrivers could've messed with my judgment, dontcha think?” He smiled as if saying, 'Silly me', and he walked to the kitchen, leaving Duster to slowly come around, his tongue still thick...

 

The boy put a glass under the tap and filled it up with cold water. Turning off the tap, Lucas turned around, and walked over to the man, and held the glass to his lips. But he saw the skepticism in his eyes and held up his hand. “It's real water. Scout's honor.”

 

He tipped the glass up slowly as Duster took down some water quickly, his adrenaline rushed through his veins once realizing how helpless he was. He let out a groan from his pounding head and a cough from an irritation in his scratchy throat. “Wha... Why do I get... tied up first, if... if this is how we're gonna play?”

 

Lucas' face showed pure anger, shock... “Duster. Playtime is _over._ Now it's time to wake up.”

 

He blinked, those wide eyes showing fear. “This isn't funny...” But Lucas looked him over once, his blank face showing he may have considered it for a second, but he turned his back to him, walking to the kitchen's counter. The blonde opened a drawer while Duster struggled in the thick rope, grunting, clenching his teeth, but gave up in a second and sat back, on edge; afraid. “Is this some... teenage joke?”

 

Lucas shut the drawer and looked at him, a smug or amused look plastered on his face. “Teenage.” He laughed lightly, nodding his head smugly. “Yes.” He approached the man. “Joke?” He bent down so his face was in front of Duster's. “No.” He whispered.

 

Duster struggled again. “Now lemme g-”

 

“ _Patience_.” He interrupted, his voice dripping with venom.

 

He struggled more. “Let me go.” He store into him. “Let me go.”

 

“ _Patience_.” He repeated.

 

“Let me go.”

 

“ _Patience_.”

 

And the man stopped struggling, looking up at his captor, who said, “I'm just checking out this side of the house, okay?” This made Duster huff.

 

Lucas chatted away while looking through drawers like he was at a tea party. “You know, I saw this cop show once, it was great. And, the killer, well, he thought he cleaned up all the evidence, but some of the victim's blood got on his shirt, and... yeah, sure, he _washed_ it, but some of the dried up blood got caught up in the lint trap...” Lucas emerged from the laundry room, a large lump of dryer lint in his palm. “So, I mean...” He shut the laundry room door, waving it in front of Duster's face. “Anything in here I should know about?”

 

They stood there in the kitchen, white light shining through frosty glass planes, lighting up the red and grey walls. “What the fuck are you doing?” Duster asked, a hint of mock in his voice.

 

“That's kinda been my question, Duster. What the _fuck_ are you doing?! Living in a house, filled with pictures of half-naked teenage _boys_. Oh, none of whom, none of whom you've _ever_ done it with.”

 

That was enough for Duster. Twisting his head towards the window, he let out the loudest yell he ever could make. “Help! _Help!_ ”

 

Lucas jumped into action, and within the span of three seconds, he leaped forward, grabbed Duster by the jaw, and in mid-yell, sprays Chloraseptic down his throat. The pressure hit his uvula, and he coughed and gagged on the peppery spritz, spitting to his side, and continuing to hack up the taste. The blonde stood back, pissed, and Duster coughed. Grabbing the armrests of the chair, Lucas pulled Duster close so he could stare into his eyes.

 

“There's really no point in me taking _any_ risks, Duster.” He pointed the bottle at him. “Technically I could let you scream your _fucking_ brains out, and _no one_ is gonna hear you.” There was silence as Duster looked at him, and Lucas answered the question before it even came out. “Yeah, I waited till today, because Mr. Cofflin is at work, and the Corasko's, while they're vacationing in Santa Barbara. Still, I just can't have some pedestrian just happenin' by as you're screaming, so _shut up_ , or next time, it's gonna be bleach, okay?”

 

Straightening his back, Lucas set the bottle down, but his head whipped to Duster's when he heard the words: “You've been stalking me?”

 

Lucas laughed, wiping his eyes. “Okay... alright, let's get something straight. _You_ have been stalking _me_... yeah, I went into other chatrooms, with different nicknames, and you would get to know each one. And then... a-as soon as you find out they were any bit older than me, you would just drop them like _that_.” Lucas snapped his fingers. “You took your time sniffing out someone my age.”

 

“I didn't talk to the others because they were _boring_. You and I connected.” He defended.

 

“Oh yeah, right, right.” Lucas mocked sarcastically.

 

“Come on, you think I faked all that?”

 

“You know, actually,” Lucas laughed, wiping his eyes again, smiling. “It's kinda funny. Because, every time I would mention some, like, obscure singer or band... you knew _so_ much about them! But not right away, it was like, a few minutes later. Maybe to give you enough time to look them up on the web?” There was silence as Lucas bent down to him. “Duster... you used the same phrases about _The Runaway Five_ as they do on _Amazon.com_...” He smiled. “Busted.”

 

Duster used the tips of his toes to back up into the chair as much as possible from Lucas.

 

“By the way... _I fucking_ _ **hate**_ _... The Runaway Five_.”

 

Duster put on a fake desperate smile. “Come on... I wanted to impress you. Am I the first guy to do something stupid just to impress someone? Does that deserve being tied up and tortured?”

 

Lucas looked taken back, almost like he could cry. “Torture...? Is this torture to you...? Wow, I guess you've never read anything from Amnesty International or Human Rights Watch, because this...” He bent down to his face again, and his soft voice was so smooth... gentle... “This... is nothing...”

 

They store at each other, almost like they would indeed kiss, but Lucas spun the chair around for fun, and he spun around and around as Lucas walked away.

 

The teenager pulled on Duster's jacket and sat down on a chair. “I mean, of course, you're not the first guy to lie to a boy, Duster. The operative word there, being ' _boy_ '. I mean, you know how old I am. What makes a kid who's barely past his first wet dream worth all this research?”

 

Duster was silent.

 

“I mean you really gotta start to wonder when... a grown man goes through all this trouble just to charm a boy... Wow... there's that word again: boy.” Lucas then turned to Duster. “You know, maybe it's this whole camera thing.” Lucas' cheery smile came back. “Cameras, computers, they let you hide, don't they? So safe.”

 

Duster exhaled and store at Lucas, who continued.

 

“I heard how your voice changed when the camera got between us.”

 

“My voice changed, because I felt sick because you _drugged_ me.” He spelled out.

 

“Yeah, you were drugged alright.” Lucas smiled, standing up from the chair, and took off Duster's coat from his thin body. “Drugged with sweet... little... fourteen-year-old flesh.” He hung up the coat on a chair.

 

“Look,” Duster started, paling. “I'm a decent guy, ask anyone. Go ahead. Here, call these models, they'll tell you.”

 

Lucas slowly approached like a lion. “Of course they will. You're not an idiot, Duster! You don't piss where you live. Those boys were your work, and I, on the other hand, was... your play.”

 

“You were coming onto me!”

 

“Oh, come on, that's what they _always_ say, Duster.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Who!? _**The pedophiles**_!” Lucas' dam broke. “'He was so sexy', 'he was asking for it', or 'he was only technically a boy, he acted like a man... _It's just so easy, to blame a kid, isn't it!?_ ” He stepped back a little. “Just because a boy, knows how to imitate a man, does _not_ mean he's ready to do what a man does! I mean, you're the grown up here! I-if a kid, is experimenting and says something flirtatious, you _ignore_ it! You don't _encourage_ it! If a _kid_ , says 'Hey, let's make screwdrivers', you take the alcohol away, and you don't race them to the next drink!”

 

“Look, look, I-I've been lonely, okay? And that makes me do stupid things, but I am not... a pedophile...”

 

They started to argue. Their voices were at the same speed and sound, but Duster's broke over. “-ppened. Just _**untie me now**_!”

 

“I might be a little peeved! So when _I_ am ready to go, _I'll_ call a cab, and call another one to let you loose!”

 

“And when will that be!?”

 

“I'm not sure yet!”

 

Lucas pushed Duster on the rolling chair into his bedroom and sat him in the corner. Walking over, he went to the right bedside table and opened up the drawer.

 

Duster started. “D-Don't-”

 

Lucas leaned up against the small table. “You can save yourself... _so_ much time by just dropping that word from your vocabulary.” He beamed proudly. “I'm gonna do what I want, Duster!” Moving to the second drawer, he opened it up. There was nothing out of the ordinary – odds and ends anyone may have. A postcard, playing cards, receipts, a little vial of X-Y jelly that makes him raise his eyebrow, then tosses it away.

 

“See, a guy as smooth at seducing adolescence as you are, and who takes those photographs,” He jerked his head in the photos direction, “I just figure he has something around he doesn't want seen.” Lucas smiled at that last part. “And when I find that, then maybe I'll know what I'm dealing with.”

 

Duster struggled with the ropes again but stopped. “What you're dealing with?”

 

“W-well, I mean, what kind of pedophile _are_ you? Just a voyeur?” He moved to the dresser.

 

“Again. _Not_ a pedophile.”

 

“Right.” He nodded. “You're a photographer.” Ironic, as Lucas was right below the pictures of Fuel. “It takes a genius to get paid for what you'd be happy to do for free.”

 

“Look, go into the living room!” Duster interrupted. “Look in the grey cabinet, pull out the third drawer down, you'll see prints that I've done for all kinds of environmental groups! I've done shots of the Yukon Territory... uh, the Utah wilderness... Inuit villages in Alaska...”

 

Lucas wasn't impressed. His hand was on his hip. “So what? You love nature, thus you must be a nice guy?”

 

“I'm saying that my modeling shots are just part of my portfolio. I've shot _a lot_ of different subjects, some of it very important work.” His voice turned deep, serious. He was straightened up, speaking strongly and convincingly.

 

Lucas dug around more. “And it was _so_ important that you thought: 'Well, I can't possibly hang it on the walls of my home. I need to plaster _my_ house with pictures of underage nymphs and just tuck the nature shots away.'”

 

Duster sighed as Lucas shut some more drawers.

 

The teenager looked at him, stood up, and slapped his own leg. “So... a voyeur _and_ a conservationist.”

 

“I am not a voyeur.”

 

“Not _just_ a voyeur... sometimes you like to kick it up a notch to actual molestation!”

 

“I am not a molester!” He argued back. “I have no idea who you've confused me with.”

 

“Sometimes you molest someone and they fight back, and you _completely_ lose control and you hurt them!”

 

“ _I have never hurt anyone!_ ” Duster said loudly, taken back, offended... maybe even scared at those words.

 

But Lucas smiled. “Well we'll just see, won't we?” From the bottom drawer, from within its deep depths, Lucas pulled out a thick bundle of letters tied together with a rubber band.

 

“Those letters are mine.” Duster says quietly.

 

The blonde teenager smiled with a blush. “Nothing's yours when you invite a teenager into your home!”

 

Duster sighed, and Lucas shut the cabinet.

 

~oO0Oo~

 

Lucas rested in the chair in the media room, large headphones on. He shuffled through Fuel's letters in his hands. “Don't love him anymore, huh?” Lucas called out with an amused laugh. “That explains why you saved these!”

 

“I thought about selling them on _E-Bay_.” Duster said dryly from behind.

 

“Excuse me?” He pulled the headphones off. “Sorry, I couldn't hear you. Maybe it was the music, or... I don't know, maybe it was the bullshit.” With a remote, he turned off the stereo.

 

“All right, honestly, someday I thought about sending them to him... _Reminding_ him of how much of a bitch he was.”

 

“Oh,” Lucas said smugly. “A little angry are we. He broke your heart and you haven't gotten over it.”

 

“Yeah, well, you walk into somebody's house, you start looking through their shit, you're gonna find things that embarrass them. It doesn't mean anything.”

 

Lucas shrugged. “Alright, okay.” He pulled open a letter, and read aloud from the written paper. “ _Dear Duster. You have to stop. I can't go where you wanna take me. You're just not the person I thought you were._ ”

 

“You don't have to read it, I know what it says.”

 

“I bet you do. How many times did you read this over to yourself?”

 

“None of your business.”

 

“What kind of person did he find out you were, Duster?” Lucas asked lightly.

 

“None of your business.” He repeated more sternly, and Lucas rolled his eyes.

 

“That kind of depends on how you define business, actually.” He tossed the letter down to his side, and sat up, smiling like a therapist. “So what, did you find him? The boy you wanted? Is this what your work is? Just some big search?”

 

Duster didn't reply to him, only looked down. Lucas, in response to the silence, put the earphones over Duster's head and tapped his ears while smiling. Sighing out of frustration, he shook them off, where they fell with a clatter once Lucas sat down at Duster's computer.

 

“Are you the type of guy who likes to save his outgoing e-mails?” Lucas wondered aloud, resting his chin in his palm while clicking through the P.C.. “Read them over and over again to think about what you said?”

 

Silence again.

 

“This is weird,” Lucas said to the light of Duster's computer. “Your download manager says that you pulled some photos off the net, but... I-I can't find them.”

 

“Gosh, that's strange.” Duster replied like a smartass.

 

“Well, yeah, a smart guy doesn't leave photos on his computer. Cause that's the first place the cops are gonna look.” Duster started to laugh as Lucas continued. “And... you're into mementos.” He circled around Duster, and bent down, putting his hands in his pockets. “So where do you put all the stuff you, uh, pull off the net, hmm?”

 

Duster didn't turn to him.

 

“Do you have a special little hiding place or something?”

 

The man cocked an eyebrow and turned to him. “I live alone. Why would I need a hiding place?”

 

“Just what I've been wondering,” Lucas admitted, walking around to face him. “I have looked through your _whole_ house... _everything_... and I have found no porn.” He clasped the armrests of the chair. “I have not found a single _bit_ of porn.” He rolled his eyes and leaned against him almost like a stripper would getting ready for a lap-dance.

 

Duster let out another annoyed sigh.

 

“I mean, guys tend to have porn around don't they? I-I mean nothing against _it_ , nothing against _them_. It's just the way they're brought up... But seriously, if a guy knows he can get away with it, _all_ guys, they all have porn at least somewhere in their crib.” Lucas sighed a little, thinking of his own porn stash at home, hidden under a floorboard in his room.

 

“You've done studies on this of course-” Duster said, interrupting his thought process, and Lucas interrupted back.

 

“ _Then_ I was thinking... that these photos on his wall, maybe _those_ are his porn...” Lucas kept going when he saw Duster's changeless face. “But I bet their not your stroke shots... I bet whatever you have is so... _juicy_ ,”

 

Duster focused on Lucas' moist lips at that word, and Lucas continued.

 

“That it needs it's own little cubbyhole...”

 

They stare at each other...

 

“Isn't that right, Duster?”

 

Duster blinked.

 

Lucas smiled and raced throughout the house.

 

He started with the grey cabinet, opening each drawer, and looking behind them into the back, closing the cubby, and going to the next one above it. Duster watched in complete shock and horror as Lucas ripped out large paper prints and tossed them behind him, looking for the false bottom that he was so sure would be there.

 

But there wasn't, leaving Lucas to rip out all the large prints and toss them to the floor, walking to the pink bedroom.

 

Now was his chance. Duster clenched his teeth together and tried to pull his hands from the bindings.

 

Lucas looked in between the mattresses of the pink bed, ripping open the sheets.

 

Duster shook and tried harder to slip his moist hands from their bindings.

 

The blonde dove under the bed, and pulled out a small oak box from beneath. He stood silent and still.

 

The older man's face twitched in stress as the teenage boy held the black object in his fingers. The weight of the nine-millimeter Beretta shifted between his fingers, he studied it, appreciated it, and then he tossed it onto the mattress.

 

Duster let out a gasp.

 

Lucas was running out of time. He kicked the box back underneath and went back into the hallway. The stress was getting to him. He sweated a little and held the back of his neck with both hands as he wandered the red hallway. He ended up violently ripping the canvases from the walls, tossing them to the floor with a clank, and dashed to the sofa, leaping over it, and ripping another print off the wall.

 

Duster was halfway there, getting his feet free... He tried to take off his shoes.

 

Lucas clenched his hair in a fist, frustrated. He had already looked underneath the couch... but the answer soon came right to his feet. Literally.

 

The rock garden sat at his feet, and he thought for a second... kicking a stone, it moved, and that caused Duster to gasp out. Smirking, the boy shuffled the piles of rocks around, and below the center of the piles of rocks, lay a heavy duty safe.

 

Lucas store at it, proud.

 

“So, what's the combination, Duster?” Lucas asked, walking up to him.

 

Duster looked away. “Eat me.”

 

“Aww, look at how he's sweating. Does this _worry_ you, Duster?” The silence caused Lucas to laugh. “Look, I'm gonna figure it out, so you might as well just tell me. I _am_ an honor student!” He said proudly.

 

“Take your time.” Duster mocked.

 

“Oh. Oh, I will. Trust me, I got plenty.”

 

“No, not much. Aren't Mommy and Daddy gonna get worried if you're not home before dinner?”

 

“I'm thinkin' no,” Lucas said softly, and started back to the safe when Duster's voice stopped him.

 

“Oh, so is _that_ it? What, they too busy to keep track of you? So you reach out to somebody who thinks that he might care about you?” Lucas stopped in the black door frame, looking at him. “And you're so mad because they ignore you?”

 

He sees some vulnerability in the blonde.

 

“They've always made the fuss over your older brother because he learned to do everything first? You're furious with them, but they _do_ love you, and they pay for your existence, but you can't let them _see_ any of that anger.”

 

“I-I'm not angry at them...” Lucas spoke softly.

 

“No... No... absolutely not.” Duster spoke like a father. “That'd be too dangerous. But you _are_ angry, and you gotta let it out somehow.”

 

Lucas was leaning against the door frame, stroking it,

 

“So you find a guy... an older guy... Maybe he reminds you a little of your dad... Let me guess, I look like him?”

 

Lucas didn't turn to him, but you could tell the lie was very false, as you could hear it in his voice. “Y-you don't look... _anything_ like him...” He said softly.

 

“If you say so. But you gotta let that anger out somehow, and I seem like a good target-”

 

“Will you shut up?” He yelled. “Seriously, just shut up, you know _nothing_ about me!” He yelled, voice hitching, and he was on the verge of tears.

 

“No, you're right. So... sit down and tell me. We'll talk.”

 

“Yeah right...”

 

“No, we can sit on the sofa and I'll... I'll call a taxi for ya... If you want, I'll hold you. If you don't want, I'll keep my distance. You can let it all out. If you need to cry. If you need to scream, whatever you need, Lucas.”

 

Lucas walked in slowly, holding himself. “Y-You wouldn't be mad at me...?”

 

“I just want you to look at what you're doing.”

 

Lucas walked closer, still holding himself, looking like he's about to sob. “I-I just wanna ask, umm...” He broke down, his face muscles tensed and he started to hick his voice like when you cry. But he wasn't crying, his face was not frowning. He was smiling... he was _laughing_. “Did... d-did you _seriously_ think that that was gonna work?” He giggled in between words and took a sigh of relief. “You're good at what you do, Duster. What you do is work with teenage boys, put them at ease, so they can trust you with all their secrets.”

 

“No, that's not what I was doing.”

 

Lucas pushed him towards the living room.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Fuel's birthday."

 

Five beeps followed by three quick ones, indicating wrong. Lucas tapped on the edge of the keypad deep in thought.

 

"Fuel's phone number."

 

Six beeps followed by three quick ones again.

 

"Fuel's phone number _backwards_." Lucas' voice started to have a bit of irritation in his voice, and Duster smirked.

 

"You're an honor student."

 

Lucas looked up.

 

" _Try every. Possible. Combination of numbers_. It should only take you the rest of the week if you figure in breaks for meals."

 

But Lucas leaned back a bit, returning Duster's smart-ass smirk to him. "Or I... Or I could just, um, try March nineteenth. March nineteenth, first with Fuel?" He saw Duster's straightened face as if it was yelling "Try it, bitch", to the blonde, but that look was all the boy needed. "What's this, Duster? You _are_ 'Lensman319' after all. Was this the first photo session or the first time you banged him - or was that the same thing?"

 

Duster was silent.

 

"Hm. What year would that have been? Three-nineteen-eighty seven?"

 

Five beeps followed by three quick ones.

 

"Nope." Lucas looked up in thought. "Three-nineteen-eight nine?"

 

Five beeps followed by two quick ones, and a mechanical tumbler moving, and Lucas gasped happily and laughed, twisting the safe open. "How sentimental you are." Readjusting himself, he sat down on the rocks and pulled out the first object - a CD marked 'stuff' with black Sharpie. He set it aside and pulled out the next folder. "What's so special about these photos?"

 

Duster looked away.

 

Lucas' eyes widened. "Oh..." He spoke so softly nobody could've heard it. _"This is what they make those federal laws for, Duster..."_ There was a screeching silence. "This is officially _sick_."

 

An embarrassed tear slid down Duster's face.

 

Lucas held up a photograph taken of a boy outside of a coffee shop - the only picture of a boy in his clothes. "What makes this boy so special? Hm? Why does he get to keep his clothes on?" In a rage, Lucas stormed up and went to Duster, staring at him in the eyes with a gaze so hateful, it would make him drop dead on the spot if that phrase 'if looks could kill' was a possibility. He knelt down so he was eye to eye with him, and held up the photo, then turned to look at it.

 

"I recognize the boy."

 

A loud grunt and Duster sent his foot with all of his strength connecting to Lucas' side, knocking him over. The blonde's head connected violently with the corner of the steel table, sending the table sliding, and Lucas unconscious to the ground. Furiously, Duster kicks the teen out of the way and slides across the room to the hallway backward, keeping his eyes on Lucas until he turns the corner, back on all four wheels - running over some of the prints of his lying on the ground like fallen leaves, denting them.

 

The gun contrasted on the pink sheets of the bed. What a lucky moment for Duster... Wheeling to the edge of the bed, the man brought the handgun closer to the edge using his feet and tried to grab it.

 

Lucas let out a high pitched whine and adjusted his head, eyes still closed, a nasty gash on his forehead.

 

His fingers were so close to touching it, but when the truth came to him that he wouldn't reach it, he sprang backward on his legs and landed on the mattress, the gun under him and the chair attached to Duster's back. But, he easily grabbed it by the barrel, and as he readjusted it in his hands, he pushed himself off the mattress with a grunt, and slid backward on the wheels to the frame of his bedroom door and peeks out.

 

The prints are there, but Lucas isn't. Only the ear-shattering silence is.

 

Quickly, he pushes himself out into the hallway. The man is strapped to the chair, one arm tied to each armrest, but one holding the pistol. Duster does a three-sixty turn, and hyperventilates, sweating.

 

Where is he?

 

Could he have left?

 

He spins around. "Lucas?" Duster looks around, the silence bothering him. "Where are you?"

 

Saran wrap covers his face, and Duster gasps for air as Lucas grasps onto his back like a spider and wraps it viciously around his head. They both struggle, and Duster propels himself backward with a leg, smashing Lucas between him and a large cabinet door, giving the blonde a gasp as air is forced from his lungs. And that's what Duster continued to do - smash the boy between the chair and the door, giving him painful gasps as the blonde, in turn, continued to wrap his face and close off his neck with his forearms.

 

A large gunshot rang through the air, and send enough adrenaline into Lucas' body to push the man forward, and Duster stopped struggling slowly. Almost in tears, the blonde hung on for dear life as the hand that held the gun relaxed, and the moment the gun hit the floor, Lucas sobbed in pain and frustration.

 

Pulling himself together, the blonde opened up his nasal and oral airways by folding the plastic wrap over his face and checked his wrist. Blood flow.

 

He immediately doubled over in pain, his sternum tightening, feeling like he was gonna throw up. His head pounded from either smacking it against the hard surface or the amount he was crying.

 

Looking at his work, he grunted in frustration, and the once calm, sweet blonde now slammed his back against the cabinet door repeatedly, screaming ' _fuck_ ' over and over. It was the only thing that felt natural.

 

~oO0Oo~

 

The white blinds were closed, letting in bright sunlight.

 

The silver table with the thick blue rope tied to its legs.

 

The man in the binds, whose name is Duster.

 

The lungs of the man, which let out a dazed breath.

 

The nudeness of the man's lower area.

 

The bag of ice which covers his groin.

 

"Welcome back." Lucas smiled. The blonde is dressed in a blue nurse's gown, covered by the afternoon sun like he was a gift from Heaven. His face showed apprehension. Or was it excitement? "I'm sorry to expose you like this. I-it's not about sex," he said dryly. "But I've got to admit: you _are_ built."

 

Duster looked to the left, away from Lucas, and let out a grunt. "I never touched you. I was trying to hold you off me while I called the cops."

 

Lucas nodded and showed him a photograph. "Would you have shown them this? Why do you have a photo of Travis Mauer in your safe? A-and, well, have you seen him, cause _no one else has._ "

 

Duster looked up, huffing, but making no voice.

 

Lucas walked to the side.

 

"I did meet Travis for coffee." The man admitted. "I took a shot of him to make him happy."

 

Lucas leaned in. "So, how happy did you make him?"

 

Duster let out a sigh. "Look at him. He's fully dressed. You can see the coffee shop behind him. I never brought him home."

 

Lucas huffed. "So, what? What, you just said, 'See you later, kid. It's been fun,'? Y-you coulda thrown this away... you didn't... you needed to hang onto it. You needed to hang onto it... You coulda talked to the police."

 

"You're right."

 

"Y-yeah, or maybe you had something to hide - like the extensive _kiddie porn_ collect-"

 

"Look, I'm not the monster you think I am," Duster defended. "But, okay, I... crossed a line." He sighed. "Just call the cops, I'll turn myself in." He bargained.

 

Lucas rolled his eyes. He could already see the headlines... "A cute pedophile pleads guilty... 'But oh, it's not his fault. He's sick. He has an addiction.'" Lucas was quite honestly done with how the world dealt with these people.

 

"I'll do jail. Isn't that what's supposed to happen?"

 

"Yeah, you might," Lucas admitted. "You might get jail time." He rolled his eyes and went down the list. "I don't know, therapy... drugs... group discussions, notifying people when you move into a new house. How bad is that, really?"

 

"It'll ruin my career, it'll ruin my life."

 

 _"Didn't Roman Polanski just win an Oscar?"_ He sassed.

 

Duster let out a defeated sigh. "So why the ice?"

 

Lucas opened up the blinds.

 

Birds chirped.

 

"You know, I read the psych profile about the person who took Travis Mauer. Said he's a loner. Thinks he's pretty damn bright and as powerful as a teenage girl. He's gonna strike again. Sounds a lot like you."

 

"It's not me!"

 

"Maybe not, but, those photos that I found, and, the way you let me get drunk..." Lucas set down a small pair of metal scissors, shaving cream, and a pink razor. "You're a headline waiting to happen." He bent down to look at Duster in the eyes, his face smiling, inches away from the tools. "Everybody will be safer if I do a little preventive maintenance."

 

He picked up the tools, and Duster's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "What the fuck are you doing!?"

 

"I have to shave you down here." He said matter-of-factually. "I-I mean, I can't have any hair on the incision site, right?"

 

_"What!?"_

 

Lucas took the ice off his groin and spoke as if he was a child coming up with an explanation to an angry parent. "W-well, I've been going to my dad's medical library at school, a-and, umm, you said I was pretty bright, right?" Lucas' face went to one that jumped in pride. "I think I'm smart enough to... perform a... successful castration."

 

Duster's eyes widened in shock as he loses his breath in shock, and he tried to spring up. "No!"

 

_"Please!"_

 

He shook violently in his binds. _"No! Ow!"_

 

"Okay, okay. I guess you're not numb enough yet."

 

Duster's eyes widened and he huffed in panic as Lucas replaced the ice on his groin.

 

"What should we talk about while we're waiting?"

 

~oO0Oo~

 

"Dear Fuel," Lucas read aloud from his laptop in a flamboyant gay way to express his innocence to Duster. "My name is Lucas Stark, I hope you don't mind me writing you out of the blue like this! I met this guy that I think you knew... Duster Kohlver. He's _so_ cute, and, well, he seems to really like me! He even asked me over to his place to do some photography, and I am so excited about this, because, well, for a" Lucas put extra emphasis on the number. " _Fourteen_ -year-old like me, this could be a huge break, ya know?"

 

He turned to Duster, his face straight, serious, dangerous. "And here I put in a little smiley face icon."

 

Lucas turned back to the laptop. "Thing is, and I've tried to pretend this isn't the case, but he talks about you an awful lot. And I have the ooky feeling that he's still in love with you. And, I'm pretty sweet on him too, but I don't wanna go crazy over him if there's still some chance that you two might get back together... So, so, so, so, I found your e-mail address in his PDA and I thought I'd just ask. Is this insane...? Am I insane...? Is Duster...?"

 

Lucas looked at said person, still tied to the metal table.

 

"And I know this other boy he talks about all the time. His name is... _Travis Mauer._ "

 

Duster looked in Lucas' direction.

 

"Do you know anything about him? I found these photos on his computer, but silly me, I can't figure out how to open them, but I'm attaching them to this note. Are they pictures of you or Travis? Anyhoo, thanks a mil. Your complete honesty will be "mucho" appreciated. Love and peace. Lucas."

 

That glaring face turned right back to Lucas and stabbed holes in his heart and lungs. "I tried to make it sound as innocent and moronic as possible. How do you think I did?"

 

There was silence between the two.

 

"Fine." Lucas shrugged. "Guess I'll just send it and that'll be that."

 

Duster decided to try a new track. "You're getting yourself in terrible trouble," Duster spoke, almost like a parent warning their five-year-old.

 

"Oh, and how's that?" Lucas sassed back.

 

"If you cut me in any way, you won't forget it. It changes you when you hurt somebody."

 

"Oh, and you speak from experience, I guess."

 

"I've just lived - unlike you."

 

Lucas sat there in silence, looking at him, interested.

 

"The things you do wrong; they haunt you."

 

"Tell me what you're haunted by." Lucas' gaze grew more interested. Duster thought of it like a child at bedtime, deep into the climax of the book their mother was reading them.

 

Duster store to the ceiling, and then looked to Lucas. "You wanna remember this day when you're with a guy on a date? On your wedding night? 'Cause I promise you, you will. Don't do that to yourself."

 

Lucas looked at him and smiled, letting out a pleased sigh. "Wow..." He tipped his head back and leaned it on the couch. "You know, that is so thoughtful. You are speaking to me so selflessly. I mean, you just don't want me to castrate you for my own benefit? Wow, I'm touched." Lucas then adjusted his head. "Duster, why don't we imagine someone saying the same thing to you at a random moment?" He turned to the laptop. "Imagine that, when you downloaded this little boy... I was sitting by your side, saying, 'Stop. Don't do that to yourself,'. Would you have listened?"

 

The silence told them both what the true answer was.

 

Lucas clicked the trackpad. "Stop." Click. "Don't do that to yourself." Click. Stop." Click. "Don't do that to yourself." His voice was sad, yet sarcastic. Duster turned his head again to Lucas' direction on the couch. "Stop." The blonde said. "Stop."

 

They stare at each other.

 

 


End file.
